Broken Glass
by KatherineStefanClaryJace
Summary: This is the story of Finnick and Annie. How they met, how they fell in love, how they died, and everything that happened in between. Starts with the 65th Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. I am absolutely in love with Finnick and Annie, so this is my attempt at a FF about them. Please review with your thoughts! **

In District 4, everything is relaxed and calm and peaceful most of the time, just like the ocean that borders our villages. Perhaps it is because we are one of the wealthier districts, perhaps because we are peaceful people by nature. Whatever the reason, District 4 is usually an uneventful place to live.

However, just like the ocean, there are choppy days, and sometimes there are storms. Choppy days are usually when there is a sickness going around so everyone is wary, or when someone is whipped horrendously for a minor crime. Days when people are distrustful or quiet and don't hang around town center much, mostly keeping to their homes and boats. We might have a choppy day if the fishermen of our village have a bad day, so the poorer families are without dinner. Those are the rough days.

We rarely have storms, days that are so bad that everything goes wrong and life just seems out to get you. However, we do have one once a year. Reaping day. A day when 2 families have to part with one of their loved ones, a child only 12-18 years old, to send them to their a fight to the death. A day when everyone must gather in the town square and watch two names be drawn from glass bowls, hoping and praying that it would not be them or someone they know. A day full of sadness and goodbyes and dread, a day that will most likely lead to 2 deaths.

Everyone thinks that the storm will not come to them. Everyone hopes and prays and prepares, wishing with all of their might. Some worry and cry, insecure and unsure and certain that the storm will come to them. Others are cocky, arrogant. They are sure that the storm will not hit them, for it hits few, and it could not possibly choose them of so many.

I thought, unfortunately, like the latter. I was arrogant, thinking that I was above it all. There were thousands of names in that bowl, what was the chance I would be picked? I should have prepared better. I shouldn't have been so sure of myself. I should have prepared better for the storm. For now I am going into the eye, and I have no idea what I am going to do.

My name is Finnick Odair, and I am the male tribute of District 4 in the 65th Hunger Games.

Let me go back a little, give you some background information.

I was born and raised in District 4, like almost all of the people here. I have never met anyone that has moved between districts, and heard of few. My district's main industry was fish and other seafood. District 4 was the only one on the coast, and so our specialty was things relating to the sea.

I had practically grown up in the ocean. I had learned to swim before I could even walk. The ocean was my second home, and swimming was second nature to me. I belonged in the sea. I always had.

My father owned a small fishing boat and spent all of his time on it, so as soon as I was old enough I begged him to teach me to fish. I had spent many long hours practicing and perfecting my technique, and by the time I was 12 I could fish as well as any man in the village.

My specialty was the trident. With it, I could fish not just as well as but better than some of the men in our village. I had been training with it since I was 6 years old, and it was like an extension of my arm.

As for my mom, she mostly stayed home and cleaned and cooked. She would often make these little shell necklaces in her spare time, and would send me out to the beach to scavenge for them while she got things done. Sometimes she would even gather a little group of girls out on the beach and teach them how to do it. Our house was a moderate size, not especially big but not too small. We were of average wealth, never having an abundance of anything nor not enough.

I had no siblings, but it was never lonely growing up. My parents kept me company, I had school to occupy me, and I also had many friends. It was strange, because when I was at school, I was always surrounded by people. I had many friends and some admirers, but I didn't have any really close friends. I had friends I could talk to, but nobody I could tell secrets to or tell them my problems. Everyone seemed to love me, and always gave me plenty of attention and kept me company, but nobody ever got close to me. It was almost like they were intimidated by me.

Ok, this is going to sound vain, but I am good-looking. Like, above average good-looking. I am not trying to sound stuck up, or arrogant, but it is the truth. I had been told so since I was a very young age. With my bronze hair that I found messy but girls found "endearing" (and that is an actual quote from a girl named Pearl) and my sea-green eyes, I was apparently incredibly handsome, especially for someone so young.

I had gotten a lot of female attention once I grew out of my child chubbiness, and ever since there always seemed to be a couple of girls hanging around me, batting their eyelashes and waving and giggling. I didn't mind the attention, in fact sometimes I even liked it, but it could still get very annoying.

I think that was one of the reasons I didn't have any very close friends. I think that girls were intimidated by my looks, so that was all they could see around me. As for the guys, I think they might have been jealous, or maybe just overwhelmed. Maybe they didn't want to compete, or didn't want to be compared to me. Maybe they thought because I was popular with girls I was shallow, and not worth being friends with. I'm not sure. Whatever it was, it seemed to keep people at a distance.

I guess I didn't mind that. I mean, it was nice to have company, but I still always had people around to talk to! There was just no one that I really connected to, that I could talk to. I suppose I had my parents for that.

My dad had always been worried about me being picked for the Hunger Games. When he was a child, his cousin (who was his best friend and closer to him than anyone) was reaped for the games. He died early on, and my dad hadn't taken it well. Ever since I was born, my dad had been worried I would be reaped and that the same thing would happen. So he had trained me, sort of.

It wasn't super intense or anything like the training the careers went through, but he wanted to make sure that if the day ever came that I was reaped I would be prepared. So he taught me how to make a fire, he taught me how to make knots and nets (something I was already good at, being from District 4, but he made me better) and some basic skills with a knife and a spear. It wasn't much, but he was convinced that if I was picked that it would help me survive.

Perhaps my dad was psychic. Maybe it was just bad luck. But his preparation was in use.

On the morning of Reaping Day when I was fourteen, I woke up like it was any other day. I could hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore, my favorite sound in the world. I got dressed quickly, humming slightly as I did. I walked downstairs, and kissed my mom on the cheek when I reached the kitchen, telling her good morning, which she repeated. I sat down at the kitchen table, and she placed my breakfast in front of me, which I immediately dug into.

As I ate, I watched my mom bustle about the kitchen, cleaning. I knew she was nervous, as cleaning was somewhat of a nervous habit for her. Whenever she was worried or stressed, she would clean. I was sure she was worried about me; she always was on Reaping Day. But she had nothing to worry about; I would be fine.

"Mom?" I asked, setting down the wooden silverware.

"Yes?" She said distractedly, scrubbing at a nonexistent spot on a plate with a rag.

"Are you alright?" I questioned tentatively.

She sighed, and set down the rag and the plate, coming over to the table and sinking into the chair next to mine. She gave me a tired smile and placed her hand on mine. "I'm fine. Thank you, Finnick darling. I'm just…" she sighed again, this time of sadness. "I'm just worried for you."

"I know, mom, but I'll be fine." I said, flashing a reassuring grin. "I always am. There are hundreds of names in that bowl, and I have never had to get tesserae, so my name is only in there three times. I will be fine."

She rubbed my hand, looking weary. "You can't know that, Finnick! Someone has to be picked, and it could be you."

I placed my hand over hers comfortingly. "Mom, we have this conversation every year and I am never picked. This year isn't going to be any different."

She smiled at me again, and stood up, placing a kiss on my forehead. "I hope you're right, Finnick." She walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my food.

A couple of hours later, I was walking into the town square where they held the reapings. I signed in, and went to stood with my age group. I was met with smiles and high fives and hugs, as I grinned and greeted my friends. I found my parents amidst the others, and smiled at them. My father gave me a grin one back, but my mother was so worried she couldn't even manage to smile back at me.

I turned back to face the stage as they started playing the anthem, and Lucia Huevale came out on stage, grinning widely at the camera with her thin purple lips. Lucy was a tall, thin woman with pale blonde hair so light it looked white that she often wore in some fancy twisty capital updo with colorful extensions hanging down. She wore much too much makeup, making her look like she had two black eyes, and her face looked almost as white as her hair due to powder, although she had two perfectly round pink circles on her cheeks. She had these little colorful rhinestones on her face, and her outfit was also coated in them. I suppose this was the way people dressed in the Capital, but I just thought she looked ridiculous.

"Hello, and welcome to the 65th annual Hunger Games!" she trilled, her voice high pitched and squeaky. There was a round of applause, though it was mostly neutral. While we didn't want to be outright rebellious by refusing to clap, people here didn't get as excited about the games as the other career districts.

After some more introductions and a speech from the mayor, a large and sweaty but overall nice man whose daughter used to come and make sea shell necklaces with my mom, they played the video about the 'Dark Days' and District 13 and all of that stuff. I usually zoned out for this part.

"Today is the special day that we get to pick our tributes for this year! Now, who is ready?" She trilled, her voice catching on ready. There was some more neutral clapping. "Let's start with the girls." Lucia smiled, showing off her teeth, which also happened to have rhinestones on them. She stuck her hand into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. "Cora Misty!" She called out.

I heard a couple of gasps coming from the crowd, but everyone clapped as they were supposed to. A scared looking pale girl came out of the section for 16 year olds. She appeared to be shaking, and I found myself feeling sorry for the girl. She looked very small and delicate. In fact, I found it hard to believe she was 16. She looked so much younger! Perhaps the fear on her face made her appear younger.

I was so busy studying the girl tribute; I almost didn't hear Lucia call out the male tribute. "…air!" She said. What did she say? I couldn't hear… There was a gasp that went around the crowd when she called the name. Who was it?

Everyone around me was whispering and, and some people were looking at me. What? Was it someone I knew? Why were they looking at me like that? Was that…pity?

My questions were answered when Lucia called out the name for a second time. "Finnick Odair?" She said, this time almost like a question. I felt my heart stop as I realized that the reason everyone was looking at me was because I was the one that was picked. I was the tribute.

Suddenly, I realized how weak I must look, just standing there not moving. I forced my legs to move forward, moving towards the stage. Lucia's face brightened when she saw me come out and she waved at me, her jewels catching the light. I felt dizzy, and sick, but I didn't want to let it show. I didn't want them to see me as weak.

So when I reached the stage and climbed up the stairs, I grinned at the crowd, and even threw wink at the cameras. Lucia looked absolutely delighted at me, and she squealed. "Oh, this one looks like a fighter! How old are you, Finnick?"

"Fourteen." I answered, still grinning. I was feeling faint, and my heart was pounding in my ears, but I couldn't let it show. I couldn't let them see how this was affecting me. I wouldn't let them see me as weak.

"So young and so brave!" She exclaimed, grabbing my arm with one of her glittery white hands. I stared at it and tried to get my vision to focus as she raised my arm and Cora's and proclaimed to the crowd "Let's give a big hand to District 4's tributes of the 65th Hunger Games, Cora Misty and Finnick Odair!" The applause was louder this time, and I noticed my friends from school clapping loudly and cheering. I threw them a grin and a wink at the girls, some of whom appeared to be crying. Crying? Why were they crying? Over me? Strange.

Lucia led us off the stage, where we were led by peacekeepers to the Justice Building. This was where we would be able to say goodbye to our friends and family, possibly for the last time.

I was left alone in a big room with blue walls with wave patterns and plain white floors. I realized, as I sunk down on a white sofa, that this was real. I gripped my pounding head with both hands as I realized that this was actually happening. I was a tribute in the Hunger Games. I was being sent into an arena to fight to the death. I could die in there. This could be the last time I saw my parents. This could be the last time I saw my home. The last time I saw the ocean or smelled the salty breeze. I could be dead in a couple of weeks.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and some of my classmates came into the room. Actually, some isn't accurate. It looked like _all _of them. In fact, did I know all of these people?

"Finnick!" said a good friend of mine, John. "Man, you looked so brave up there, smiling and winking! How did you do it? I would be so scared, I would probably tear up or faint or something!"

"Yeah!" chimed in John's best friend, Crest.

"You looked so brave up there." Cried some girl with blonde hair, who I was pretty sure I had never seen before. She launched herself at my chest and hugged me tight, and a couple of other girls followed her lead, all crying for some reason. Did I even know all of these girls? Why were they so sad about me being reaped?

"You better get out of this, man." Said Adrian.

"You can totally do it!" Said his sister.

"You're going to make it out, I know it." Said Eric.

"Come back to us, man." Said John, patting my back.

I was surrounded by cheers and comforts and congratulations. However, even though I was surrounded by people, I still felt alone. As nice as this attention was, it felt so fake. These people didn't really know me.

Finally, peacekeepers came to get them out, and they all crowded out with a couple of last hugs and high fives. My parents were then escorted in, and I immediately ran into their arms.

"Mom." I said, hugging her tightly. "Dad." I said, hugging him as well. My mom was crying, and as much as he tried to hide it, I could see my dad's eyes were watering slightly. I was crying just as much as my mom, and unashamedly. I had been pretty brave up until then, and I knew if I wanted to keep this brave face on I would need to give myself a moment to grieve.

"It will be ok," my mom whispered in my ear as she brought me into another hug. Everything will be fine. You will be fine. You'll be ok. Everything will be ok." I tried to listen to her encouraging words, but the tears continued rolling down my face as my dad wrapped his arms around us, and the three of us stood like that for a while. Finally, my parents released me, and my dad put his hands on my shoulders, looking down into my eyes earnestly.

"You can do this Finnick, I have every hope in you. I believe you can do this. I know you can. We have been preparing for this, and you know everything you need. You can do this." He said sternly, but I saw a tear break loose and slide down his face.

I smiled weakly at him, and he gave me one more hug. A peacekeeper appeared at the door, and told us to hurry it up.

I looked at my mom who was still crying. My tears were dried up, but I was sure I still looked a mess. She copied my dad and put her hands on my shoulders, although I was already so tall that she was almost looking up at me rather than down. "Come back to me, Finnick." She whispered. "I love you. Come back to me. Please come back to me. Whatever you have to do. I don't care. Just come back to me. Come back to us." She gave me one last tight hug, and then my parents walked to the door, where the impatient peacekeeper was waiting.

"We love you, son. We are so proud of you." My dad said, and then the door closed behind them.

"I love you too." I whispered, and sunk down onto the sofa, putting my head in my hands.

_What am I going to do? _


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. Chapter 2! Yay! Please review! And enjoy ;) **

After saying goodbye to my parents, I was led to the train station in a daze. Perhaps it hadn't hit me. Maybe I hadn't realized that this was goodbye, because right now I wasn't feeling pain or sorrow like I should be. I was just numb.

I remembered to wave and smile at the people at the station, and even threw a few winks for good measure. I knew I needed to get sponsors if I wanted to stay alive, and this might help me with that.

Once on the train, I was led to the dining car, where Lucia and Cora were waiting for me. Lucia was happily eating, and seemed rather quiet, which I thought was strange. She seemed very talkative. Maybe she wasn't as annoying as I had made her out to be.

Cora still seemed pale and nervous, and she was still shaking slightly. I felt rather sorry for her. She was a scrawny girl, with not much muscle. She was also pretty short. Neither of those things worked in her favor.

I sat down beside her and she threw me a scared look. I suppose I was her potential murderer…

It was strange to think like that. Sure, I had accepted the fact that I might die in that arena. But I hadn't thought much about the fact that whether or not I died, I would become a murderer. I would kill people. Children. People my age maybe, even younger. It was sickening to think about.

It was also strange to think that Cora was 2 years older than me. She seemed so frail and breakable and scared, while I was tall and strong. I know I look older than fourteen, but she looks like 12. I felt bad to even think it, but I was sure Cora wouldn't last long in that arena. So at least I would be spared from killing her.

When I sat down, Lucia immediately began chatting with me. It must have been Cora that was keeping her quiet. Lucia must have felt bad for her, and didn't want to overwhelm her. That was also surprisingly nice of her. It was funny that I had made the snap judgment of her, that she was annoying and vain, and yet I hadn't even exchanged more than 2 sentences with her. I suppose the same thing could go for me. I'm sure many people judged me to be arrogant, thought I found myself better than everyone else, and yet that couldn't be farther from the truth.

I promised myself that I would try not to judge people too quickly in the games, as that decision could prove deadly. Lucia continued to chatter at me in that squeaky voice while Cora and I ate quietly. I wonder where the mentors are…shouldn't they be on the train?

After our meal, Lucia directed us to our rooms. Cora immediately went into her room, shutting the door behind her. Lucia frowned after her. "So rude." She snapped, glaring at the door. "I tried talking to her before you got her, asking her simple things like if she liked the food, and she simply ignored me! And her table manners!" Lucia gasped, as if she was absolutely scandalized. "Just _dreadful._" She smiled at me. "Your table manners are fabulous, however! And you are not nearly as rude as that girl. Hmph." With that, Lucia walked away, probably back to her room to fix her makeup again.

I walked to my room, and immediately went over to the shower. I turned it on and experimented with a couple of different knobs, and when hot water shot out I immediately relaxed. I was probably in the shower for about an hour, just relaxing and trying not to think about what was to come.

When I finally shut off the water and got out, I threw on some underwear and just collapsed on the bed, falling asleep right away.

I had never had really vivid dreams, before. And I usually didn't remember them when I work up. But for some reason, that night, for the first time ever, I had a vivid, realistic, dream. Well, I suppose you could call it a nightmare.

_I was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, this old rowboat. It was storming, and it was a bad storm at that. The sky was completely black, it was raining, no wait, hailing. The waves were huge, and my old rowboat was being tossed all around._

_I looked around me, and suddenly there was a fin sticking up in the water. Then two, three, four, five…they just kept coming until I was surrounded. _

_Sharks. We had been warned about them while I was growing up, but in all my time fishing I had only seen a couple._

_These sharks were different though. Because when I poked one with my oar, it sat up and it was a kid, someone my age. I think it might have been someone from my school…_

_I realized I was right as all around me, the sharks surfaced and turned out to be people from school, some people I knew and some I didn't. However, instead of high fiving and encouraging me, these people were trying to convince me to drown myself. _

"_Come on, just do it!" shouted John._

"_You're not going to survive long anyways!" said Adrian with a mean smirk._

"_Just jump in! Come on!" yelled Crest. _

_I covered my ears to try to block out their yelling, but suddenly they were holding onto my boat, grabbing it, trying to topple it, trying to grab me and pull me in._

_Hands reaching…reaching for me…hands trying to grab me…hands pulling me in…_

_And then I was in the water, and it was dark and cold, and suddenly I couldn't swim. I couldn't surface. And I couldn't breathe. I put my hands around my neck, and I was choking…dying…drowning…_

I woke up to cold water on my face, and an unrecognizable man standing in front of me. He was youngish, maybe in his mid to early 30s.

"Come on, kid. Get up." The guy said, dropping his bucket. I realized then that he had spilled a bucket of cold water on me.

"Why did you do that? You could have just shaken me." I said angrily, glaring at the man as I got out from under my covers.

He laughed. "Yeah, but that was more fun. See you in the dining car." And with that, the man just walked out of my room, leaving the bucket lying on the floor.

"Jerk." I mumbled, wiping my face and going in search of clothing. I found a pair of clean clothes lying on the little dresser, and took those into the bathroom to change. I looked at myself in the mirror and ran a hand through my hair, exiting the bathroom.

I entered the dining car to find Cora, Lucia, the man from my room, and an old woman sitting around the table, eating and chatting.

"OH, Finnick!" Lucia grinned, getting out of her chair to come greet me. Today, her little rhinestones were all green; a shade that looked similar to my eyes…but it was probably just coincidence. "You have to meet your new mentors!" She waved at the newcomers. The old lady smiled welcomingly, but the man just stared at me.

"This is Mags," she pointed to the old woman, who grinned at me. "And this is Dylan." She pointed to the man, who smirked. I glared at him and sat down next to Mags.

She smiled warmly, and piled food onto my plate. "You want to eat up," she said quietly. "You want have much food in the arena." I returned her warm friendly smile and thanked her, quickly digging into all of the food.

I had never had a lack of food, but this food was so much fancier and flavorful than what we had back home. All of these new things I had never had before, or even heard of! I found myself trying almost everything.

Mags had talked to me a little; she seemed nice, and very knowledgeable. I decided that if we got to pick which mentor we wanted, I would definitely pick Mags. She actually seemed like she wanted to try to keep us alive, while Dylan seemed completely uncaring.

After we ate, we all gathered in a little sitting area to watch the recaps of the other reapings. I tried to make mental notes of all of the tributes for later. I needed to start strategizing, and for that I needed to get to know my competition and who to look out for.

Shimmer and Clos from district 1. Shimmer didn't look like the typical career. She was sort of tall but not muscular, and her clothes were very girly, she didn't look like much of a fighter. She also didn't look nearly as proud as Clos at being chosen, in fact, she almost looked bored. Clos was huge-I liked to think I was pretty muscular, but Clos was probably three times as big as me. He was a pretty scary looking dude too, with this mean scowl. He would be someone to watch out for.

Slate and Alana from district 2. Alana looked tougher than Shimmer, as she was bigger and stronger looking, but while Shimmer looked disinterested Alana looked actually a little scared. That showed weakness, so she might be the weak link in the Career pack's armor. Of course, I could-if I wanted- join the career path. But I wasn't sure what I wanted yet, so I would need to think about it more. As for Slate, he looked pretty tough, but he also looked pretty dumb. He started walking the wrong way towards the entrance of the stage, and nearly walked off the wrong way too.

Dayta and Bugg from district 3. Bugg looked really scared, and weak, probably an easy kill. Dayta looked a little more in control of the situation, and she looked very smart. She had this clever little glint in her eyes, and I knew she would be someone to watch out for.

They showed our reaping, and I noticed how strong I looked. I was surprised, since I had felt like passing out. But I had kept my brave face on, and I looked nonchalant and relaxed, smiling and waving. Then there was Cora, poor Cora, who looked absolutely terrified. I'm sure the other tributes were immediately passing her off as weak, and an easy kill. I mean, even I had passed her off as that.

Via and Isaac from district 5. Nothing seemed particularly interesting about these two, as both hid their emotions well. That could either mean they were brave, or smarter than they seemed. I would watch out for the two. Although, neither were especially well built, so if it came down to a physical fight, they would be nothing to worry about.

Ford and Martie from district 6. I could write them both off as easy kills. Nothing stood out to me about either of them, they both just looked scared; shaking and white.

Barker and Ashli from district 7. Ashli didn't seem like anything to concern myself about, but Barker was pretty big. He had some big muscles, almost as big as Slate from district 2. I might have to watch him. He must be pretty strong, as he probably got that muscle from cutting and lifting heavy wood.

Calico and Tex from district 8. Like with district 6, I immediately knew they would be nothing to worry about. The people I wanted to make notes about were the careers and people like Barker. Little twigs from the poorer districts didn't concern me as much.

Maze and Zea from district 9. Nothing special. Eve and Penton from district 10. Nothing to note. Soy and Till from district 11 didn't look like anything special, but the girl, Till, looked pretty determined. I could keep an eye on her. Nelly and Tom from district 12. Weak, hungry, and easy.

When the reapings were over and I had compiled my list of those to watch out for, the five of us decided to talk about the reapings and strategies for when we were inside the arena. Mags and Dylan were giving us advice, although it was mostly Mags with Dylan occasionally commenting on something.

She told us that if we decide to join with the careers, we need to be careful, because they are quick to betray, and we definitely have to leave by the time it gets down to the final 8, because that is when the careers turn on one another.

She told us to make sure we stay hydrated, so that means find water. She told us to be careful of what we eat, and to make sure that we check out the plants station at the training center. She also said we should check out some of the other survival stations and not just focus on the weapons, as tributes often die of dehydration, hunger, and the cold, and poisonous plants.

I took in everything she said and made mental notes, sometimes asking questions. Cora continued to just sit on the sofa, her arms crossed around herself, staring at the wall. I wasn't even sure she was listening to Mags, which made me mad. This was valuable advice! What she was telling us could mean the difference between life and death.

I opened my mouth to say something to her, but then thought better of it and shut it. If she wanted to die, let her. There wasn't anything I could do to make her want to stay alive, even if I tried to help her, I couldn't. So I continued to listen to Mags, because I wasn't going to let the fact that my district partner wanted to die keep me from coming home.

When we arrived at the capital, I was completely overwhelmed. Everything was so big, and shiny, and there were all of these tall buildings. I looked out the window as we pulled up to the station, and tried to keep the look of amazement off of my face.

There were tons of reporters out on the station, and they were taking pictures and shouting. I heard a lot of them shouting my name, so I grinned at them and waved.

"Come along, dear! We must be off!" Lucia chirped, her voice even higher pitched than usual. She must be excited to be home. It was so weird to think that these people called this land of luxury and wealth and excess home…

We got off the train to a swarm of photographers and reporters. They were all calling things out, and the cameras were flashing, and I could hear my name being repeated over and over again…

"Finnick, look over here!"

"Smile for the camera, Finnick!"

"What do you have to say about being chosen, Finnick?"

"Finnick, are you excited to be in the capital?"

"Finnick!"

"Finnick!"

"Finnick!"

"Finnick?" I snapped to attention as I realized that Mags had placed a hand on my shoulder. I had been standing and smiling at the cameras, and the rest of our group was leaving the station.

"Sorry Mags." I said, smiling at her as she led me out of the station.

She returned my grin. "That's alright. I understand that all of the cameras and attention can be overwhelming, but you will have to get used to it. Especially if you want to win these games." She leaned in closer to me, and her voice turned to a whisper. "One of the tricks to getting sponsors is being camera friendly. I have noticed that you already seem to have this advantage. Keep smiling and waving at the crowd, wink, blow kisses, and be charming. The people of the Capital eat that stuff up, and sponsors can mean the difference between life and death in the arena." She patted my arm, and we caught up to the other three.

Lucia seemed to be lecturing Dylan about taking better care of his hair, which she claimed was greasy, and the color dull. He didn't seem to be taking it too well, as they were both exchanging mean remarks.

"At least I'm not dressing like a fourteen year old boy's eyes!" He snapped, and Lucia flushed, looking at me embarrassedly.

I knew the shade of green looked familiar. However, Lucia didn't seem too bad, so I decided to spare her some embarrassment and pretend I didn't hear Dylan.

I struck up a conversation with Cora, and pretended not to notice Lucia's relief. Cora, however, was hard to converse with.

It wasn't that she was unfriendly, necessarily, but she didn't exactly encourage talking, since she wouldn't say a word. I tried to talk _to _her, about the arena and training and our mentors, but she just stood in silence, looking at the ground, as if she were off in her own little world.

Eventually I huffed, and gave up trying to talk to her. I instead turned to Mags, and asked her for some more survival tips, which she gladly gave.

It seemed like just a little while later that it was time for the Opening Ceremonies.

I was led to a room with three girls, each dressed in that strange Capital fashion, and each seemed to be a different color.

They introduced themselves to me one at a time, each giggling and whispering to the others about how handsome I was.

"I'm Freya," said the first girl, winking at me with a giggle. Her clothes were neon green, and so bright the colors almost hurt my eyes.

"I'm Anthea," said the second one, smiling shyly, whose hair and outfit were a hot pink color.

"I'm Leda." Said the third, whose outfit seemed to be made out of gold, and whose hair was dyed to match.

I suppose the girls didn't look that much alike, but their clothes were so similar they looked like triplets. I couldn't even tell what color their hair or eyes really were. Capital people were so _fake._

The three girls introduced told me they were my prep team, and led me to another room where they quickly undressed me.

I felt awkward standing there; completely naked in front of three giggling girls, but I guess I didn't really have much of a choice. They circled around me, examining me, and I tried to cover my most private parts. The girls seemed to giggle even harder at that.

The first one, Freya, told me that my stylist would be coming soon.

Sure enough, about five minutes later a short pudgy little man with spiked up purple hair and a blue sparkly suit that reminded me of Lucia.

"Hello, hello, hello!" He said cheerily, bustling into the room. "My name is Menelaus, and I am your stylist!"

Like my prep team, my stylist also circled me, sizing up my body. He looked at me through critical eyes, yet I got the feeling he liked what he saw.

"Well," he said, clapping, when he finished my inspection. "This will be much easier than I thought. I think we should go a different route than I was first planning…Girls, it looks like you won't need to do much to this handsome young man." He threw me a wink, but I found it more disturbing than encouraging.

"Come along." Menelaus said, clapping his hands and turning. The girls gave me a robe to put on, and the four of us followed him.

"Girls, I want you to do the usual preparation, but don't do anything to that gorgeous hair except wash it. I will direct you how to style it when I bring the clothes. Hurry along now! I will see you later, handsome." Menelaus said to me, before turning and hurrying down the hallway.

My prep team led me to another room, and immediately began my "preparation". And let me tell you, after this, I'm not sure how much worse the Hunger Games could be. When they waxed my legs, I found myself wishing that they would just throw me in the arena already.

When the three girls finally finished "preparing" me, something that seemed to take an eternity, they brought me to meet my stylist again, who would be waiting with my clothes.

I felt so strange- I had been scrubbed down, plucked, waxed, sprayed with perfume, and washed until my entire body was practically sparkling. I couldn't smell the sea on myself anymore, and while they may find that a good thing, I found it disconcerting. I loved the smell of the ocean, and no matter how many baths or showers we took, the people of District 4 always seemed to smell a bit like it. However, these people had washed all of it out of me. I smelled like one of them now- sickeningly sweet and utterly fake.

"Oh, Finnick my boy!" Menelaus said, hurrying over to me excitedly. "Look how good you look! With my costume, you are going to be absolutely _fabulous_!"

He went back to the table to get my outfit for the Opening Ceremony. He held it out proudly. "What do you think?" Menelaus asked proudly.

I stared at it. It was just shiny teal shorts, that I suppose were supposed to be the color of the sea. However, they were so tight and small, they didn't hide much.

"Isn't it perfect? There was more to it, but after I saw your _gorgeous _muscles I knew that we couldn't cover them.

I simply stared at the tiny bit of fabric, which I suppose he took as approval. "Fabulous! Now, girls, why don't you get started…" I zoned out of his babble, as the four of them worked on getting my outfit ready. Of course, it didn't really deserve to be called an _outfit…_

I ended up with my hair done so it looked perfectly windswept, my entire body coated in this shimmery stuff that matched my shorts, a net thrown over my chest and attached to the shorts, and some white rhinestones attached to my chest. I guess that was a fad here or something…

I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to be. A wave? Water? Whatever it was, I suppose it wasn't as bad as it could be. I had seen some people from our district dressed up pretty ridiculously for these things.

There was this one time that they were both supposed to be sea horses, but no one knew what sea horses looked like (not even the stylist), so nobody could tell what they were supposed to be. Then this other time the tributes were supposed to be sea urchins, so they had huge purple balls around them and their hair was spiked up (sort of like my stylist). It was hilarious; the guy had knocked the girl out of the carriage with his bulbous costume.

People from our district were also often dressed up as all kinds of fish. So, I guess I was lucky I didn't look too ridiculous. I may have felt uncomfortable, but at least the Capital people would love it, and I really needed to get sponsors. Mags told me I shouldn't have too hard of a time, but if I wanted to get out of that arena alive I would need to do everything in my power to get as many sponsors as possible.

When it was finally time for the Ceremony, I was led by my chattering prep team to the chariot Cora and I would be riding on. The three girls were all assuring me that I looked absolutely fabulous, and how the people of the Capitol would love me. They also told me they would be rooting for me. According to Leda, the girl in gold, I could "totally win! I mean, look at you! You are so big and strong, and _handsome." _

While the support was encouraging, the girls reminded me of the people from my school back home. They were ok company, and their attention was nice, but they still didn't know me or care about me that much. To them I was just a pretty face.

I met Cora at the chariot, and when I saw her standing in the outfit that made me look so good, I felt sorry for her. She too had a tiny outfit on that barely covered anything, and her hair windswept didn't look nearly as good as mine did. I was sort of angry at the stylists, for this outfit was clearly supposed to make me look good, so it didn't accentuate Cora's features as well. She was wearing shimmery light makeup to match the kind all over our bodies, but it made her look sort of washed out.

When she saw me, a flash of resentment flashed across Cora's face, before it returned to her usual look of no expression. I realized then how hard this must be for her. I mean, getting sponsors was hard enough without someone like me to compete against. I wasn't trying to be cocky, it was just the truth. Having me as the other tribute from our district would mean even less of a chance for Cora to get sponsors, as they would probably go to me. I felt horrible. Even if I didn't kill her, I could cause this girl's death. Like Mags said, sponsors could mean the difference between life and death.

I smiled warmly at Cora when I caught her eye, and she looked back at me for a minute. I tried to convey with my eyes how sorry I was, how guilty I felt, and how I wished there was another way. But even though I felt sorry for her, this was a fight to the death, and only one person could come out alive. And I was determined to make sure that it was me.

With that, our carriage started rolling. I stared straight ahead, and stuck my most charming smile on my face. I could do this. I would do this. I can make it out alive. I will make it out alive.

As our carriage came into the light, and my eyes adjusted to all of the flashing lights, I waved, and smiled, and blew kisses, and winked. I was as charming as I could be, because I was determined to make it out of this alive.

I heard people screaming my name and I waved. I saw myself on the big screen and I winked. I blew kisses to the ladies, and I kept a smile on my face. Nearly everyone was chanting my name.

Finnick.

Finnick.

Finnick.

I continued to smile. I kept blowing kisses. I kept waving. I kept winking.

I can do this.


End file.
